


Comment Below

by after_midnightmunchies



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Bill's a comedian, Bill's an asshole, College AU, Dipper's a gamer, Dipper's a smol bean who needs to be protected, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, M/M, Mabel's a beauty guru, Modern AU, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Paz is also a beauty guru, Slow Burn, Wendy's a musician, Youtuber AU, but he eventually gets better, like serious slow burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-12
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-10-30 19:56:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10883841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/after_midnightmunchies/pseuds/after_midnightmunchies
Summary: "Comment below if..." Dipper trailed off, turning to Bill for an idea."...if you think Pine Tree should kiss me in our next video!" the blond filled in enthusiastically. Dipper's eyes hardened into a glare, barely restraining himself from smacking the smug grin off of his impish face."Watch it, Cipher. You're walking on thin ice as it is. Don't think that I've forgotten about that burn video."or the long-overdue YouTuber!AU





	1. #cipherburnvid

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! So the idea around this story actually came from someone on Tumblr a looooong time ago. Back then I had asked for permission to write it, but life stuff popped up and prevented me from doing so. But you know what they say, "the show must go on," "better late than never," and "no time like the present," right?

TV shows and movies loved to glamorize college life. Frat parties, hot chicks, sports games, dorm life, _and_ freedom? What downside could there possibly be?

Perhaps sleeping through your alarm and having to run through piles of leaves and bumbling crowds to get to class could be considered one. Or maybe having hot coffee spilled on you by someone equally as late? _Or_ taking the walk of shame to the only open desk front and center of your strictest teacher, who also gave you a grade-cut for your tardiness? Not to mention forgetting the homework that had kept you up all night in your rush to arrive… only to have a pop quiz on entirely new subject matter slapped onto your desk with the explanation that “You should have taken the initiative to read three chapters ahead. Welcome to college!”

“The ‘best four years of your life’ my ass,” Dipper grumbled to himself as he slaved over his calculus homework. “‘You get to pick your own classes,’ they said. ‘You’ll meet a ton of interesting people,’ they said. ‘It’ll be fun!’ they said…”

“Whoa, someone’s in a mood again,” a gruff voice mused from his doorway.

Dipper dropped his pencil and rubbed a hand over his tired face. He spun in his desk chair to face his great uncle, a sheepish expression crossing his features. “Sorry, Grunkle Stan, it’s just been one of those days.”

The old man nodded understandingly, leaning against the doorframe. “Were you up working on the same report that I just helped Mabel finish?”

The freshman nodded. While they didn’t have class on the same day, they did have the same teacher. The assignment had been to interview an elder family member about a mistake they’d made in their youth and elaborate on a lesson that could be learned from it. Mabel’s report was due tomorrow, and in order to eliminate the chances of being accused of plagiarism they’d agreed that Mabel would interview Stanley while Dipper interviewed his twin brother, Stanford. The only downside was that their other great uncle was on a research expedition on the other side of the world, and Dipper, being the procrastinator that he was, had waited until the night before to finally sit down and video chat with him.

“I assume you interviewed Ford, then?” At Dipper’s nod, Stanley wrung his hands together and continued, “What did he say his mistake was?”

The eighteen-year-old hesitated. His great uncles had a very strained relationship, a result of an incident and a misunderstanding when they were in high school that set them on different paths. Stanford had accepted a scholarship to an exclusive university across the country from his brother, neglecting the plans that they’d laid out as children. Stanley argued that it wasn’t fair to him, while Stanford was upset that his brother wasn’t more supportive of his decision. Neither really forgave the other for his betrayal, but Dipper was sure that Stan was hoping to reconcile with his brother soon.

He was also certain that Stan had referred to that fight as his mistake and was hoping that his brother had done the same. Unfortunately, Ford had told him that his greatest mistake was breaking off a friendship in college because he’d developed feelings that he couldn’t process. He’d called it his “greatest regret in life” and said that he “always wondered what could’ve been” had he been bold enough to pursue his interest.

Stanley easily read into Dipper’s silence and bowed his head. “I’m sorry for asking.”

“Don’t be!” Dipper cried, jumping out of his chair. “I had asked him about mistakes in his college days specifically, so it probably didn’t cross his mind!”

His great uncle seemed pacified enough, cracking a smile. “It’s alright, kid. You have enough things to worry about.” He peered over Dipper’s shoulder at the textbook on his desk. “Calculus? I thought you took that in high school.”

Dipper pouted and gave a deflated nod. “Apparently I only took one semester of it. Why would a school even do that?”

Stanley raised his hands. “Don’t ask me, I’m as against the system as you are.”

They grinned at each other, content to bond over a mutual dislike. Stanley had always been closer to Mabel, but it was moments like these that reminded Dipper of how fortunate they both were to have him.

Stan glanced at his gold watch, face contorting when he noticed the time. “Ah, time to open up shop.” He turned back to his great nephew, placing both hands on the teen’s shoulders. “Promise me that you’ll take a break from your homework. You’ll have all of tomorrow to work on college stuff; finish that math, then relax for the rest of the day.”

Dipper smiled at his guardian’s concern. “Thanks, Grunkle Stan, I’ll do just that.”

Satisfied with the response he received, Stan patted the boy’s back before taking his leave, calling to both young adults, “There should be leftovers in the fridge. If not, order a pizza! Love you!”

He heard his sister’s enthusiastic cry of “Love you, too!” from her room, the level of energy indicating that she was in the process of filming one of her videos.

_‘That’s not a bad idea, actually,’_ Dipper admitted to himself, settling back into his chair. Maybe he could wrap these last problems up quickly enough to tackle the newest game on Steam.

* * *

“Hey guys!” Dipper beamed at his camcorder, giving a little salute. “Welcome back to ‘The Mystery Shack!’

“I know that I posted a video two days ago and this is a bit out of character, but it’s been a long day,” he sighed, running a hand through his curls with a strained smile. “Hope you all don’t mind!”

He turned his attention to his desktop, the monitor positioned just beside his camera. He began the screen recording to edit into the video later, disabling the external audio so that it only saved the game’s sounds.

“Alright, I promised to check out a new game last time, and a lot of you have been asking to see a free game so you can play along later, so let’s see what we have here…” Dipper scrolled down the page of offered games, scanning the brief descriptions for something that piqued his interest.

“Okay, here’s one!” His cursor landed on a game with bright colors and 8-bit animation. His eyes skimmed the description. “It looks like a PC knockoff of Splatoon. Graphics are a bit crude, but I guess you get what you don’t pay for. Let’s check it out!”

* * *

The game definitely had its bugs, but it was actually pretty amusing. It had an online multi-player option, so he logged on after getting a hang of the controls. A few players recognized his gamer tag and teamed up with him. They were in the middle of an intense shootout when–

“Dip, have you seen Bill Cipher’s newest post?” Mabel cried, slamming his door open and rushing to his side. She didn’t hesitate to shove her laptop onto the desk beside his.

“Mabes, I’m in the middle of a video!” Dipper complained, eyes wide at his sister’s frantic movements.

“This is more important!” the girl argued, gesturing firmly to the video already loaded on her screen.

Dipper groaned and stopped his camera and video feed, typing a quick apology into the chat box to his teammates and logging off before giving the brunette his undivided attention.

Mabel had a grim expression on her rosy cheeks. “You’ve heard of Bill Cipher, right?”

Dipper nodded. He’d never watched the eccentric blond’s videos, but he knew that Cipher had accumulated roughly four million subscribers. Dipper himself had recently broken the one million mark after a year and a half of consistent posting. He supposed that had something to do with Bill’s style of video being more along the lines of social commentary and comedy bits. “What about him?”

Mabel only pushed her laptop closer to his hand, a silent gesture for him to click “play”. Dipper scooted to offer half of his chair to his twin, who perched herself on its armrest gratefully. He mentally prepared himself for all of the clichés he’d likely see before finally tapping the spacebar.

A large mop of blond hair filled the focusing camera, the quality blurring slightly as the man shifted back into visibility. He squinted large amber eyes at the camera’s screen that was likely turned toward him, his pupils focused just to the left of the lens. He leaned over the table again to get closer, the camera lens’s auto-focus feature scrambling to compensate.

“I think I have a loose eyelash,” he murmured, fingers holding the accused eye open wide to the camera. “Is it bad?”

The video flickered, Bill in relatively the same position, but slightly further back. He was still messing with his eye, frowning at the camera.

“Ugh, I hate eyelashes, they’re so stressful!” He seemed genuinely concerned, tugging at a few lashes but coming up with nothing. He scanned his fingers with a pout before giving the camera a bright smile. “Well, the show must go on!”

The video cut to a very brief animation of a gold, brick-faced triangle with a single eye at its center contorting into a cartoon version of Bill, who fell into a sitting position on top of the words “Welcome To The Mindscape” in cursive text. Bubbly music played along with the intro.

The graphic faded back to the scene before, only with Bill seated comfortably in a chair behind the table he’d climbed onto. From that vantage point, Dipper was able to take in the man’s attire: a gold dress shirt with the sleeves folded to the elbows, a black bowtie, top hat, and pair of suspenders complimenting the fancy look. A few papers were stacked in two neat piles in front of him, though Dipper assumed that they were just for show. The blond’s hands were folded professionally atop them. It was pretty easy to anticipate the impending change of pace.

“Hey kids, welcome to The Mindscape!” came the obnoxious screech. Dipper winced, quickly turning the volume on Mabel’s laptop down a few notches. “I’ve been getting a lot of requests to do a recap in celebration of two full years, and while it’s a tried and true trope, you guys should know by now that conventional isn’t how I roll.”

Dipper rolled his eyes at the haughty attitude that the man expressed. He quickly pulled the blond’s channel page up on his own laptop, scrolling through his videos with an unimpressed gaze. Most of them were pretty typical for YouTubers of his style: challenges, rants, skits, and the ever-so-popular vlogs, which he had graciously isolated to a separate channel called “DailyCipher”. _So much for unconventional…_

“Anyway,” the man continued, a sinister look forming on his impish face, “in celebration of this momentous occasion, I’ve decided to break down what I’ve learned of my fellow YouTube sects through something of a ‘burn video’.”

“A what now?”

“Just keep watching,” Mabel advised, eyes glued to the screen.

“If you’ve ever seen the movie Mean Girls, you probably have an idea of what I mean. For the uncultured babies out there, I’m sure you’ll catch up.” He stuck his tongue out mockingly before scooting to the right of the screen, a graphic of a monitor appearing on the left. He snapped his fingers and the monitor screen displayed an image of hair and makeup products.

“Since my fellow comedians and I are at the top of the ladder, let’s jump down to the second rung – beauty gurus and advice givers. They win second place _by a hair_ –” a laugh track was inserted to compliment the pun, which Bill paused for with a wink “– because of their insane popularity. Really, they’re a bunch of attention-starved divas that sound like the same broken record and just promote a ton of expensive shit for you to buy. I give them props, though, considering most of them don’t even get paid by MAC or Sephora for all of their advertising. And some of the advice that they give! Do you really think that they do that all of that stuff to themselves? I’m sure that if you look up ‘hypocrite’ in the dictionary, all of their faces will come up as examples!”

Mabel’s left fist clenched the chair beside Dipper’s leg, and he reached his right hand down to take it and pat it soothingly.

“Musicians and artists have a lot of brownie points with me, and that’s not just because I’ve collabed with some of them and happen to play a few instruments myself–” the video cut to a clip of Bill holding a triangle and striking it once with the beater “–It’s pretty courageous of them to put their life’s work out there for people to judge. I suppose storytellers would fall into this category, as well. Nothing like listening to a scary story right before bed! Unfortunately, you can’t always trust what you hear on the internet. ‘ _It can very easily be auto tune~’_ ”

He sang the last part in a lame imitation of stereotypical auto tune. With a mischievous smirk, he pulled a remote from his pocket and pressed a button, his statement from before playing back actually mixed and auto tuned. Dipper had to admit that it did sound impressive, but it was no substitute for the real thing.

“And as far as those storytellers go, plagiarism is a very real thing. Just ask your local college student!

“I’d say Buzzfeed comes next, and yes, they’re in a category of their own. Have you seen how many channels they have alone? Can someone say desperate for attention?

“Conspiracy theorists are just below, mostly because I find them amusing and occasionally influential. A lot of the things that they come up with are absolute rubbish, but I live for an elaborate, thought-provoking conspiracy! Fake moon-landing? The real Paul McCartney actually dying in 1966 and being replaced by a look-alike? Spongebob being based off of real animals affected by nuclear testing in the Bikini Atoll? Male nipples becoming a useful mutation in the future?

“How-to and tutorial videos are only on the next level because they saved my camera and laptop after I got caught vlogging in that nasty storm four months ago. But honestly, shout out to the people that make these videos and actually come up with this stuff! Those cookie-in-a-mug recipes are dope!”

He held up a wide mug and flipped it over, a large chunk of what was hopefully a thoroughly-baked cookie falling into his hand. He beamed as he turned and dropped it straight into a garbage bin, the mug following suit.

“Cosplayers are close to the bottom because they have their funny moments, but they’re primarily a ton of terrible actors who never grew out of cartoons. That’s not _necessarily_ a bad thing, I mean, I’ve been known to enjoy the occasional Adventure Time episode, but… ah, who am I kidding? I’m super childish!” He flashed a silly face at the camera. “There aren’t a lot of obsessive cosplayers on here, though, so there’s hope for humanity.

“At least until the gamers come and ruin it.”

_WHAT?_

Bill’s face twisted into a repulsed frown. “That’s right, gamers are on the last rung of the ladder – in fact, they’re more like the ground level. Why would anyone spend fifteen minutes of their time watching someone play a video game, much less _a whole hour_? Do you have any idea how much you could accomplish in an hour?! And the gamers themselves must have absolutely _no_ lives to be content with not only holing up to play video games for however many hours, but also to talk through the entire thing and believe that their commentary is actually valid! I mean, how much more pathetic can you get? Any moron can mash a few buttons on a controller; why would anyone need to watch someone do it for an hour? I might as well just watch the hour-loop Nyan Cat video! I’d probably lose less brain cells through that, to be honest.”

The monitor faded, Bill scooting back to the center of the screen. His lips twitched back into a grin as he concluded the video. “Anyway, thank you guys so much for putting up with my shenanigans for two whole years! I’m sure that with you all along for the ride, we’ll have many more adventures to come!”

The screen flickered, showing him sitting on the left of the screen pointing an accusatory finger at the vacant right side. “Don’t go soft on me now, Cipher! That’s not what the people come to see!” he berated.

The blond was suddenly on the right, holding his hands up with an apologetic expression. “You’re right, Bill, I’m sorry! I just can’t help but get a little emotional, I mean, _two years!”_

The Bill on the left returned, nodding and wiping a fake tear from his eyes. “Yeah, I know.”

The Bill on the right looked toward the left side with a skeptical expression. “Dude, are you crying?”

“No!” the left character shouted. “Damn eyelash decided to betray me now! I’m definitely ranting about eyelashes next video!”

Bill returned to the center, still rubbing at his eye. “Damn it, I think the eyelash has a friend!” he huffed. He finally gave up, apparently trying to blink the pain away. “Wow, what a way to end a video, huh?” He struggled for another second before releasing a groan and hitting something on his keyboard.

A generic graphic with the multi-colored vertical bars came up, elevator music playing behind it. An animated Bill wandered onto the screen dragging a tangle of wires, the words “Please hold for technical difficulties” popping up above him. The cartoon struggled with detangling the clump, eventually wrapping himself up in them and falling over. The same bright yellow triangle from before, (that seemed like a nod to the Eye of Providence, now that Dipper thought about it), drifted onto the screen then, a black bowtie and top hat matching the color of its small arms and legs. It floated to the trapped man and snapped its fingers, a blue fire incinerating the wires and freeing the blond cartoon. Bill leaped to his feet and high-fived the triangle before giving a thumbs up.

The real Bill finally returned sporting an eyepatch. He flashed the camera a sheepish smile. “I lost the war with the eyelash.”

Under any other circumstance, Dipper would’ve cracked a smile at the man’s antics and how relatable they were. It wasn’t hard to see how and why he had such a large and loyal fanbase.

“On that note,” the blond continued, and Dipper could sense that he was about to launch into his signature sign-off.

As he’d predicted, Bill flashed a cheeky grin, leaning in close to the camera. “Remember kids-” he inhaled sharply before releasing everything in one breath “-reality’s an illusion, the universe is a hologram, buy gold, bye!!” He used his left and right thumbs and index fingers to make a triangle over his right eye, winking through it, (at least Dipper assumed it was a wink – his other eye was covered by the eyepatch), before cutting the video. A clip from his last video began to play with the usual requests for likes and subscriptions over a dubstep version of a pop song.

Mabel slowly closed her laptop, watching Dipper with an anxious expression. The brunet himself didn’t really know how to react. On one hand, it was just some guy giving his opinion; it’s not like he’s supposed to love everything. On the other hand, he didn’t just express distaste in his craft – he completely trashed it, and to, at the very least, his four million subscribers. How was he supposed to just let something like that go?

“As you can imagine, the reviews aren’t overwhelmingly positive,” Mabel finally murmured. “He’s been getting a bit of backlash on his Twitter page, too. Just some disgruntled fans arguing for their favorite beauty guru or musician to be the one exception to his stereotype.”

Dipper nodded, hand moving mindlessly along his laptop’s touchpad. Before he was aware of it, he was on Cipher’s Twitter page. Just as his sister had said, there were a few scattered comments about specific Youtubers. He saw a few tagging his friend and former babysitter, Wendy, better known by her followers as “RedHeadedRage”.

_@RedHeadedPaige: “@WelcomeToTheMindscape Surely you don’t mean @RedHeadedRage! She’s a goddess! #cbv #youvegonetoofar”_

_@FearWendysRage: “@WelcomeToTheMindscape @RedHeadedRage is nothing but pure talent that you wish you had! #cipherburnvid”_

_@RageSuperFan: “@WelcomeToTheMindscape You’ve done four videos with @RedHeadedRage, so you can’t be talking about her! #cipherburnvid”_

Wendy was a musician, but most of her channel was dedicated to giving advice to her primarily-young-adult audience. She did a lot of social commentary, as well, living up to her channel’s namesake. Her ex-boyfriend, Robbie Valentino, (whom Dipper still held a strong dislike toward), had taught her how to play guitar. From there, she also taught herself bass. It soon became her instrument of choice, and after their breakup she began to record covers of Adele and Taylor Swift and Beyoncé songs that steadily became part of her channel’s identity.

Wendy collabed with everyone. She’d done a few beauty and advice videos with Mabel, and she was a closet-gamer who made occasional guest appearances on Dipper’s channel. He was surprised to find that she’d done videos with Cipher on multiple occasions, too.

Dipper scanned the other recent tweets on the subject, finding quite a few in favor of Mabel, too. His sister had a fairly large following, herself; she’d had a head start on him, already nearing her third year, and she had a modest 3.4 million followers to brag about.

There were no comments about gamers. Dipper told himself that the video was still recent; not many people had seen it, yet. And who was to say that gamers were even fans of Cipher? For all he knew, they didn’t know, nor would they care, so why should he?

* * *

Two days passed, the video had over eight million more views, and he still hadn’t found any positive commentary in favor of gamers. _#cipherburnvid_ popped up as a trending topic in the U.S. that afternoon. Every other sect had been defended, except for his. He’d even received a few comments on his latest video asking him if he’d seen it yet and had anything to say about it.

“I have to do something!” he grumbled to Mabel over their microwaved dinners that evening. “I can’t just let him get away with it! Gamers are pretty introverted; I doubt that many of them would be brave enough to speak out.”

“So _you_ are going to be the voice for ‘the little guys’?” Mabel inquired, waving her fork at him teasingly. “What are you going to do? Annihilate him in 140 characters?”

Dipper swatted the utensil away with his own, a frown marring his features. It wouldn’t be enough for him to just tweet a response. There was no guarantee that many people would find it amid the flood of #Cipherburnvid posts. _No, he had to do something bigger, something bolder, he had to–_

“I’m going to post a reaction video!” he declared, ignoring the skeptical look that his sister shot in his direction.

She took a sip of lemonade before addressing his statement. “That isn’t exactly your MO.”

“Well this isn’t exactly a typical situation,” he pointed out. “What Cipher posted was borderline hate, and I want to assure people, gamers and aspiring gamers especially, that they are justified in their likes and hobbies. He can’t get away with belittling people’s interests just because he’s popular!”

Mabel wiped a mock tear from her left eye. “That was beautiful, Bro Bro! Pure poetry!”

Dipper stuck his tongue out at her. He maintained a composed exterior, but in reality he was trembling at the prospect on the inside. He had never been much of a confrontational person; many of his subscribers admired his passivity toward internet trolls and haters. But he knew that he just couldn’t leave this one alone.

When he’d cleaned the last bits of food from his plastic dinner tray, he stood and tossed the remains in the garbage. Mabel glanced up from her phone to give him a thumbs up.

“I’ll be right here if you decide that you want me to chime in.”

“I don’t think that will be necessary, but thank you,” Dipper smiled. He wasted no further time in waltzing to his bedroom, afraid that if he delayed any longer he’d lose the confidence needed to film the video.

His camera sat in its usual place on his desk, right beside his laptop. His chair was turned toward him, open and inviting and comforting as always. It was familiar territory, a sacred space for his videos. Part of him wanted to draw upon that comfort for this video; another told him that this video shouldn’t make him comfortable. Deciding that a change of scenery might be nice, he scooped the camera up and grabbed his coat.

“I’m going to film it out in the park,” he announced to Mabel as he passed, grabbing his keys and phone from the kitchen counter.

Mabel gave him another surprised expression, but didn’t comment beyond a teasing, “Stay safe and watch out for strangers.”

Dipper nodded and shrugged his coat on, mumbling a courteous, “Be back soon, don’t burn the place down,” as he slipped out of the door. The crisp autumn air slapped him in the face as he exited their apartment building wishing that he’d had the foresight to bring his scarf. The temperature was dropping more rapidly than it had last year, probably due to climate change. He made a mental note to find a related game to play to raise awareness of it without seeming like a total activist.

Their apartment was a short walk away from a rather large park near the center of the city. Oddly enough, it didn’t have an official name, but locals often referred to it as the West Coast’s version of Central Park. There was a lake large enough for paddle boats in the warm months and ice skating in the winter. A lengthy trail wound through the park’s forested area and open fields that often attracted picnickers. Another trail traversed the outer parts of the park, offering workout stops for joggers along the way. There was a playground and a sand pit for volleyball on the opposite side from where he’d entered. Basketball and tennis courts were stationed a little way down the path. Benches could be found scattered along the walking path, the occasional water fountain and mist-sprayer nearby.

It was a very well-maintained park, and Dipper often found himself drawn to it when he needed to unwind. Mabel typically accompanied him to ensure that he didn’t get lost, (though it usually resulted in her getting pushed by him on the swings). Who needed frat parties when there was a perfectly kept park nearby?

The path was well-lit despite the setting sun. The entire park was bathed in a random mixture of white light, sunset orange, and elongated shadows. While the combination didn’t seem like it would work on paper, it was actually a gorgeous sight.

Dipper selected a vacant bench, far enough away from any other patrons that may potentially intrude, to film his video on. He didn’t exactly have a script to go off of, but he trusted that the general idea of what he wanted to say combined with speaking from the heart would get the message across.

He flipped his camera on, “Canon” flashing across the screen as it came to life. He popped the lens cap off and aimed at a bird perched on a stone structure to his left, adjusting the lighting to suit his darkening surroundings. There was a lamppost beside him, but the shadows were still falling unevenly with the sun not completely set yet.

Finally satisfied with the picture, Dipper flipped the screen and turned the lens on himself. He took a deep breath, steadying himself. God forbid his voice crack in the middle of his rant.

His finger hovered anxiously over the “record” button. He was stalling at this point, and he knew it. He silently wished that Mabel had tagged along – she would’ve pushed it for him by now, ready or not.

“Come on, Dippin’ Dots, be a man!” he grumbled to himself, knowing that Mabel would’ve given him the exact same pep talk. A small smile came to his face at that thought, and with the small reassurance that it brought him, he pressed the button.

* * *

“In Response To The #CipherBurnVid” had garnered over two million views overnight. It was the only video of its kind so far, and it had received far more praises than reprimands in contrast to its predecessor.

His phone nearly burned him when he picked it up from his nightstand that morning. A quick glance at the notifications explained why – hundreds of messages across his social media pages linked the video and urged him to watch it.

Bill pulled the video up on his laptop, settling on his small sofa with a mug of coffee. He slipped the thin-framed reading glasses that doubled as his computer glasses onto his face before pressing play.

“Hi guys!” The speaker was a young man, probably seventeen or eighteen if his clean-shaven face was anything to go off of. Wavy brunet hair curled wildly about his head, falling into warm chocolate brown eyes. He was a bit pale, and while it was apparent that he wasn’t athletic, he had a lean frame that wasn’t unappealing if Bill was being honest. In fact, the man’s entire appearance was attractive. “I know that this isn’t my usual style of video, but I recently stumbled across that ‘burn video’ that one of my fellow YouTubers recently posted, and I wasn’t amused by some of the things that he had to say.”

Bill frowned. He didn’t like where this was going.

“First of all, he insulted what many of us consider to be more than just ‘a hobby.’ It’s a craft that we spend hours perfecting for the entertainment of you, our viewers, and I didn’t appreciate how little he made of that. It may be just a hobby to him, but not to me.

“Now, I’d like to address his comments about gamers.” He gave the camera a hard stare, as if glaring at Bill directly. “Gamers are an important faction of YouTube. We are the visual ‘how-to’ guides for new gamers. We tell you which games are worth your time and demonstrate why. We show you how to beat that level you were stuck on for a week. We find the one path that leads to the end – the one weakness that the boss has. We brave the horror games and the lamest games in the app store so that your playthrough is as enjoyable as can be. We find the diamonds in the rough. We make typically boring games fun with our commentary. We make people laugh just as much as any other YouTuber.

“Our audiences may not be the same, but that doesn’t make you better than us. People are entitled to their tastes and opinions, and it’s not okay for you to make it seem like we’re a waste of space. Think about all of the young gamers that you just invalidated and insulted! You made it sound like their interests are not okay! I don’t understand what possessed you to produce such a hateful video, rewatch it in editing, and still decide that it was a good idea to post it. Word of advice – stick to what your viewers request, because they are ultimately who you’re making your videos for.”

The brunet paused then, as if gathering himself again. He looked up at the camera sheepishly, and if Bill hadn’t been upset he would’ve considered the young man adorable, (he still did, but he was less keen on admitting it to himself).

“I’m sorry to drag you guys down with this. Hell, there’s no guarantee that this video will even reach its intended audience. I promise that I’ll have a new video tomorrow to make up for it!” He gave a wink and flashed a radiant smile. “Until then, stay weird!” With a salute, the video faded out.

Bill frowned, unamused. He scrolled down to the comments, skimming the top-rated ones and expecting them to put the self-righteous brunet in his place. To his surprise, they were overwhelmingly positive, commending the teen on “sticking it to the man,” and for “standing up for the little guys,” and for “being bold enough to share [his] views,” among other things. Many of them promised to pass the message on to Bill.

“Well,” the blond thought aloud, mug of coffee forgotten, “message received.”


	2. #twitterwar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dipper begins to find out just how in over his head he is and we get a peek into Bill's domestic life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To celebrate a successful first week of work, (and having the day off today), I felt that an update was in order!
> 
> Also, thank you so much for all of the love that this story has gotten so far!! Over 100 kudos in less than two weeks?? What did I do to deserve you guys? <3

“Dipper!”

The brunet paused mid-step, turning toward the voice. A familiar redhead waved at him, dutifully ignoring the protests that she received as she barreled through the crowd in his direction. The guitar case on her back knocked a poor civilian into a store window. Dipper stepped aside to allow her to catch up and hopefully minimize further damage.

“Hey Wendy, what’s up?”

“I was just on my way to your place. Congrats on the video!” she beamed, clapping him on the back enthusiastically.

Dipper attempted to cover the breathlessness that Wendy’s strength left him in with a cough. “Oh, you saw that?”

“Man, who hasn’t seen it? Have you seen the buzz that it’s been getting?”

“Not today, I’ve been in class all morning.” Thursday was one of his longer days, with three classes back to back to back. He’d woken up late, (8 a.m. classes were the bane of his existence), and hadn’t gotten to check his notifications. Running across campus from class to class didn’t allow for much free time, either. He was actually on his way home to catch a few more z’s before dealing with the aftermath of his video.

“Ah, to be young and in college,” Wendy sighed with a wistful gaze toward the sky. The redhead had graduated from college last year with a bachelor’s degree in music and a minor in education. She was still trying to decide on whether she wanted to pursue music or just settle down as a teacher for a while. She’d hoped that her YouTube channel would generate enough interest in her to get her career going, but so far she’d had no such luck.

Her eyes met Dipper’s and the two exchanged a good-humored laugh. Their age difference had caused some awkward rifts between them in their teenage years, but now it served as the backbone of many of their jokes. Wendy would tease Dipper for being under-aged, promising to show him all of the hotspots once he could legally get into a club, and he’d shoot back that she wouldn’t even remember what a hotspot was by the time that happened.

They approached Dipper’s apartment building, entering the elevator in comfortable silence. As they neared his door, Apartment 618, Mabel poked her head out, eyes widening excitedly when she saw them.

“Dip! Wendy! You won’t believe this!” She ushered them in with thinly veiled enthusiasm, literally bouncing on her heels.

Stan glanced up from the kitchen with an annoyed expression. “It’s about time you got here! Your sister has been talking my ear off for the past hour!” As an afterthought, he added, “Hi Wendy.”

“Always a pleasure, Mr. Pines,” Wendy nodded back politely, gesturing to his robe.

“Please, you can’t expect me to be decent in my own home. What do I look like?” the old man snorted.

“I would expect nothing more, sir,” Wendy chuckled back with a mock salute, moving to give her boss a hug. They had a relationship that would probably confuse most onlookers, but to the Pines, Wendy was an honorary member of the family.

“Ah, I should probably get ready to open up shop, anyway,” Stan grumbled, pulling away from the young woman and lumbering off down the hall. “Try not to break anything.”

“No promises!” Mabel shouted back giddily. Her laptop was perched precariously on one arm as her fingers typed frantically on her phone. As she worked, she launched into her explanation:

“Okay, so I was busy catching up on my social media this morning when I came across a new trending hashtag beside the #cipherburnvid one. I knew that you’d posted your video last night, so when I saw its name, I knew it must’ve been in response to yours. Of course, my suspicions were right, but booooooyyy, was this topic trending! So I watched it and was moved to tears by your poetic words and the support that my baby bro got– ”

“Five minutes, Mabes!”

“Details, details,” Mabel brushed off, eagerly returning to her news. “Anyway, after seeing all of the views and comments that you were getting, I decided to check your subscribers and Twitter followers, and…”

She spun both screens to face Dipper, squealing as his eyes widened. Wendy whistled over his shoulder. “Daaaaamn, that’s way more than when I checked it an hour ago!”

“And that’s not all!” Mabel continued, setting her laptop down and tapping away at her phone again. “Cipher responded!”

“He did what?” Dipper could feel his heart hammering in his throat. He tried to swallow the feeling down, but it hardened like a large piece of food that stubbornly wouldn’t break apart.

“He posted this tweet twenty minutes ago! _‘People like @TheMysteryShack should learn how to take a joke #cipherburnvid #cbvresponse #justchill’_ Isn’t this great?”

“Great?” Dipper squeaked. “How can this possibly be a good thing?”

“You’ve officially started a feud with someone! People literally eat these things up! Just look at the exposure that you’re getting!”

“Mabel, I never asked for a fight. Besides, I’d hardly call this ‘a feud’.”

“Well whatever you wanna call it, you’ve got one now!” Wendy agreed. “And you can’t let him have the last word, so what’re you gonna say to that?”

Dipper frowned. The last thing that he needed, let alone wanted, right now was a social media war. “Can’t I just ignore it and let it all blow over? I have Latin homework!”

Mabel and Wendy each gave him a scandalous expression. “You want to roll over and let him win?”

“I _want_ to roll over until this all goes away,” the brunet mumbled. He lumbered over to the couch and plopped himself down, rubbing at his eyes tiredly.

“Come on, Dipping Sauce!” his sister whined. “What happened to standing up for the little guys? Did you read some of the comments that your video got? It’s trending for a reason!”

“You’re an inspiration, man!” Wendy agreed enthusiastically, nudging his knee with her boot. “You have to answer back! Really give it to him!”

Dipper cracked an eye open to study their pleading expressions. Mabel always got excited over social media stuff, but Wendy was much cooler and typically carried a level of chill that he admired. He didn’t understand the hype, but if both of them were being so persistent about it…

“Hypothetically, what would be the best approach to responding?”

Mabel pumped a fist into the air. “Vive la revolution!”

* * *

“Bill!” a small voice shouted from down the hall, followed by a loud thud. “Bill, come quick!”

“Will?!” Spaghetti abandoned, Bill raced into the bedroom, sock-clad feet gliding across the wood flooring. “Will, is everything okay?”

A small blond head popped up from the tangle of sheets on the floor to the left of the bed. A blanket was still hooked to one of the pigtails that the five-year-old sported. A laptop – Bill’s laptop – sat precariously on the edge of the bed just above.

Bill heaved a sigh when he realized that no immediate damage had been done, but was quick to flip the switch into parent-mode. He pulled his lips into a thin line and leveled a stern gaze at the child before him, hands on his hips. “Willow Grace Cipher, care to explain why you just screamed bloody murder and scared your big brother half to death?” Okay, he may have exaggerated the “bloody murder” part, but the terror was very real.

The little girl pouted up at him with her large ocean blue eyes. “I didn’t mean to yell like that. I was calling you to see something, but I fell off the bed.” She gestured to the mass of blankets around her and the laptop still hanging half-off of the bed.

Bill quickly swooped in to rescue it from a life-threatening plunge, scooping his unsuspecting sister up with the other arm. Depositing the laptop safely onto the bed, he focused his attention on the blonde, tossing her up into the air and catching her low to the ground. Her excited squeals this time were music to his ears.

“Now,” he panted, setting her down after a few more throws, “what did you want to show me, on my own laptop, which you did not have permission to use?”

Willow offered an innocent grin in response to the latter portion of the question before reaching for the computer and pulling up the page she’d been on before. “I was just going to watch a video for school, but this popped up when I turned it on.”

Bill peered at the screen over her head, mentally swearing when he saw his Twitter feed appear. He’d forgotten to close it after tweeting his response to the video earlier.

“I know that you’re popular, but there were a lot more _no-ti-fi-kay-shuns?_ than usual,” she continued, carefully pronouncing the syllables of the word that Bill had used to describe them last time. “A lot of them were _tagging?_ this person here.” She hovered the cursor over an apparent response from @TheMysteryShack with a questioning look directed at him. “Who are they?”

Bill pulled the laptop away to read the tweet. ‘ _@WelcomeToTheMindscape, pardon me if I don’t understand your pathetic attempt at humor #cipherburnvid #cbvresponse’_

The blond covered his disdain with a smile, ruffling his sister’s already mussed hair. “You are too smart for your own good, kiddo.”

She frowned at the nickname, swatting at his hand. “Don’t call me that, I’m almost six!”

“Yes, my dear, you’re practically an adult. I can hear the IRS coming for your taxes already.”

“You didn’t answer my question!” At her brother’s blank expression, she elaborated, “About who the ‘Mystery Shack’ guy is.”

“Hey, how about I help you with your homework, then we go for ice cream?”

“Bill…”

“There’s this little spot that I noticed on the way home from school earlier that looks really cute!”

“Bill…”

“And I’ll even let you get two flavors this time, with extra toppings!”

“Is he your boyfriend or something?”

Bill choked on air, eyes wide. “How do you even know what that means?”

“Are you trying to not answer?”

“What? No! He’s just this guy who does videos like me, but his are different.”

“Different how?”

“He likes to play video games, so that’s what his videos are about.”

“Oh, like how you like funny stuff, so you make videos about funny stuff?”

“Exactly like that,” Bill nodded with a smile.

“That’s cool! Does he get money, too?”

Bill received revenue for running ads on his videos. It was probably safe to assume that any YouTuber with more than a million followers did the same, (though it was still hard for him to believe that a _gamer,_ especially one as new as he apparently was, could accumulate that large of a following). “Yeah, I think so.”

“That’s even cooler! I wish I could get paid to play video games!”

Bill rolled his eyes, tapping her on the nose. “Please, you’re just lazy.”

Willow stuck her tongue out at him. She opened her mouth to respond, but paused suddenly, sniffing the air. “Is something burning?”

“Shit, the spaghetti!” Bill gasped, clapping a hand over his mouth immediately after.

“Swear jar~” Willow sang, merrily skipping out of the room to retrieve it.

Bill raced after her to ensure that the stove hadn’t burst into flames yet, only to find someone already taking care of the burnt mess.

“Bill, what have I told you about cooking without me here… actually, scratch that. What have I told you about cooking in general?” A large black mass was scraped out of the pot and unceremoniously tossed into the trash.

“Just in time to save the day, as always, Tad,” Bill chuckled, more out of relief than humor.

“Yes, you’re quite lucky to have me,” the other man quipped, dropping the abused pot into the sink. He turned to two bags on the counter that hadn’t been there before his arrival, pulling out cartons of Chinese food.

“Orange chicken?!” Willow raced into the kitchen, swear jar in tow. She shoved it roughly into her brother’s hands before throwing her arms around Tad. “My hero!”

Bill pouted, pulling two quarters out of his pockets and dropping them into the glass. Tad caught the movement and shot him a sly grin. “S-word?”

“Spaghetti,” Bill explained, rolling his eyes. The tolls of the swear jar were 25 cents for “crap” and “damn,” (Bill had argued that those didn’t count, but corrected himself after a stern look from Tad), 50 cents for “shit,” 75 cents for “bitch” and “ass,” and a dollar for “fuck.” Whenever the jar’s contents reached a total of $10, they’d go out and blow it on ice cream. In hindsight, it probably wasn’t much of a punishment…

Bill set the jar back into its place in the living room, on the bookshelf right beside their last family portrait. He’d been seventeen at the time, Willow two. Their father held the toddler proudly in his hands. Their mother had her arm wrapped around Bill’s shoulders, a content smile on her face. They were all dressed in ugly Christmas sweaters, Willow’s being Rudolph and the rest of them sporting other reindeer. They’d popped a blinking red nose onto the baby’s face, her excitement palpable through the photograph.

It was the last time that he could remember experiencing such unadulterated joy with his family. About a month after the photos were taken, their parents started fighting in front of them. Another month saw their father sleeping in a hotel room. He officially moved out four days after that. By the end of spring, their parents had filed for divorce.

Bill sighed deeply, shaking the rest of the memories off. They weren’t worth reliving, not at this moment. He caught sight of Tad balancing a carton of Lo Mein on his head, Willow animatedly cheering him on. They both burst into a fit of laughter when the carton suddenly slipped, coating them both in a generous helping of noodles.

“Hey, save some for me!” Bill called, laughing along with them. He didn’t know what to call this thing that they had with Tad, but he was incredibly grateful for it.

* * *

“So, he responded?”

Bill glanced up from the dishes that he was washing to see Tad enter the kitchen with an unreadable expression. “Will get to sleep okay?”

The other man nodded, barely suppressing a yawn. “She’s the one who brought it up, actually. Said that she read a message from him to you and asked if I knew anything about it. I told her not to worry and read a book to distract her.”

“If You Give A Mouse A Cookie?”

“If You Give A Mouse A Cookie,” Tad confirmed with a nod.

Bill smiled as he finished up the last plate. The book was one of his sister’s favorites, and if he was honest, the same could be said for him. He could practically recite the entire thing from memory.

Tad was still awaiting an answer, standing beside the drying rack patiently as the blond placed the last piece of china onto it. Realizing that he wasn’t letting go of the original subject so easily, Bill dried his hands on a dish towel and dug his phone out of his pocket.

“Here, he responded around three. Willow actually saw it before I did, but then the whole spaghetti thing happened and I didn’t get to respond.”

Tad read the message a few times. “Well, _are_ you going to respond?”

Bill frowned at him. “What do you mean? I can’t let him have the last line!”

Tad shrugged. “I don’t know… something like this has the potential to go south at any moment. I know how self-righteous you get; I don’t think this kid is the same way. Just tread carefully, is all I’m saying.”

Bill pouted. “I guess you have a point, but he insulted my sense of humor! I can’t just let that go!”

“And I’m not telling you to let it go, I’m telling you to not get carried away.”

Bill nodded solemnly. He was born without a filter; Tad usually reined him in. The scolding that he’d received from him for his burn video still sat fresh in his mind, though he adamantly refused to take it down, citing his first amendment rights.

Appeased by the silent response, Tad allowed a sheepish smile onto his face. “Sorry, I hate to parent you.”

Bill shrugged it off with a grin. “It’s fine, I’d hardly call myself an adult. I could benefit from a lecture every now and then. And hey, it kinda comes with the job, right?”

Tad rolled his eyes and ruffled the blond’s hair. “Yeah, but you’re more than just my client.”

Bill shot him a scandalous expression. “You mean government robots actually have hearts?”

Tad gasped and clutched at his chest. “Ouch! I’ll have you know that they don’t just install these things into every government robot! You were just lucky to be assigned one for which they did.”

The two chuckled heartily at that. After the craziness that had brought them together, it was nice to be able to laugh about it now.

“In all seriousness, though, how are you, Tad? We haven’t seen you in a few days.” It wasn’t uncommon for Tad to be away for days at a time; his line of work kept him busy, especially whenever he got a new case.

“Yeah, sorry about that. These new clients are in a pretty rough situation. I may have to bring one of my coworkers in if it continues in the way that it has.”

“Oh please! After a case like ours, I doubt that there’s anything The Great Tad Strange can’t handle!”

The older man laughed. “You give me far too much credit. I’m still relatively new to this; two years may seem like a long time, but I did take your case on while I was still earning my degree. And you two are probably still my greatest success story so far.”

Bill waved the other man’s arguments off. “Please, I’m sure it’ll all work out.”

Tad nodded. “Let’s hope so.” He yawned, pulling his phone out to check the time. “Shit, I have to be in court in ten hours! I have to go prepare my case files!”

“Swear jar,” Bill reminded as Tad moved to grab his work bag.

“Yeah, yeah,” Tad relented, dropping two quarters into the jar on his way out. He only lived a floor down from them, and often times he’d just crash on the couch or with Bill.

“Oh, and hey,” he added, pausing at the door. When Bill’s eyes met his, he continued, “try not to flirt too hard with the kid. Goodnight~!”

Bill had to bite his tongue to avoid waking Willow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bill's backstory and the reasons for his attitude run deeper than he lets on...
> 
> Willow and Tad are inspired by the relationship that Bill has with Will and Tad in "Runaway Groom" by Vivion, (which is an amazing story, 10/10 would recommend). I just love their little family dynamic and wanted to include a similar one here to showcase a softer side to Bill.
> 
> Thanks again for reading! Let me know what you think in the comments!! ;)


	3. #pterodactylbros

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dipper films a collab with one of his best friends and is given an exciting opportunity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As if I could leave Soos out of the fun!

_@TheMysteryShack I’ll take ‘pathetic humor’ over brain-rotting video games and lonely weekends any day!_

_@WelcomeToTheMindscape I don’t see your weekends particularly packed. Doesn’t seem like your humor is helping you in the relationship department…_

_@TheMysteryShack Oh yeah? Name one time that video games got you laid._

_@WelcomeToTheMindscape You know there’s such a thing as oversharing, right? I don’t kiss and tell._

_@TheMysteryShack Kissing and fucking are two completely different bases. And avoiding the question isn’t doing you any favors_

_@WelcomeToTheMindscape Is it so wrong to want to keep some things private?_

_@TheMysteryShack YouTubers don’t get privacy – it’s part of the job. Then again, I’d hardly call your line of work a job._

_@WelcomeToTheMindscape Just like your videos, that last tweet made zero sense._

_@TheMysteryShack Making sense is boring, but that’s something I’m sure you’re very familiar with._

_@WelcomeToTheMindscape Do you really have nothing better to do than antagonize me all day?_

_@TheMysteryShack Don’t flatter yourself. There’s nothing good on TV and I haven’t renewed my Netflix subscription yet._

Their banter persisted like that for two more weeks, fluctuating between hostile and teasing. Both parties continued to make and post videos like nothing was happening, choosing to only address the issue in under 140 characters.

Dipper tried his best to ignore the blond nuisance as he went about his business, but whenever he managed to push the Youtuber out of his head his phone would vibrate with a new Twitter notification that dragged him back in. Bill had an especially annoying habit of tweeting at him when he was trying to film a new video, often knocking him out of his groove and forcing him to restart. Needless to say, it became hell to edit.

“Don’t even think about him right now,” Dipper muttered to himself as he stepped off of the bus. “You’re going to film a collab today and it’s going to be awesome!”

This particular Youtuber lived in the suburbs just outside of the city. He was a gamer that he often collabed with, more for pleasure than views. He shifted the weight of his laptop bag to his other shoulder as he crossed the street, the house in his sights.

The door was answered on the third knock by a stout Hispanic woman wearing an apron. Her grey hair was styled in a simple, neat bun. She smiled up at him in recognition.

“Oh, Dipper! Please come in. How are you? Let me take your coat!”

Dipper smiled gratefully at the elderly woman, shrugging his coat off when she began to tug at it. “I’m doing well, Abuelita, how are you?”

“I’m good, everything is good. You are here for Soos?”

“Yes ma’am,” Dipper nodded politely.

“Go on, he should be in his room,” Abuelita waved in the direction of the hallway before heading into the kitchen. “I will make some snacks for you.”

“Thank you!” Dipper called after her. Turning to head into the corridor, he was suddenly blindsided by a large body barreling into him with linebacker-force. Before he could register what had happened, he was being swung around, body limp as a ragdoll.

“Dipper, dude, it’s been forever!”

“Soos, it’s only been a few weeks!” the brunet chuckled back, stopping abruptly when oxygen began to run out. “Hey man, can you put me down?”

“Sorry, sorry!” Soos quickly deposited him onto his feet, though the smile had not left his face. “But you should really come over more often!”

Dipper gulped in some much needed air before returning the grin. “Well, college isn’t exactly a walk in the park. Enough about that, though, let’s get to work!”

Soos fist pumped excitedly, chattering about the new game that they were going to play as they made their way to his room.

“So I was thinking that since everyone really liked that Jurassic Park game that we played three collabs ago, maybe we could bring the ‘P-terodactyl Bros’ back! I found a game that swears to be, like, ten times harder than that one we beat!”

“Sounds good, bro,” Dipper replied distractedly. He’d felt his phone vibrate despite having muted it. He wondered idly if he was actually waiting for another tweet before dismissing it as a leg spasm.

Soos didn’t pick up on the vacant tone, sitting at his computer and powering it up. Soos used an old-school desktop that he’d gotten cheap at a garage sale and fixed up. He was a really gifted technician, and a pretty decent programmer, but he preferred his simple line of work as a freelance handyman. He was fortunate to have a very supportive girlfriend and grandmother behind him.

Because of his immobile desktop, Dipper often visited Soos to shoot their videos. For the rare occasions that the older man made it to Dipper’s place, they’d borrow Mabel’s laptop for their quests. It made for amusing videos of Soos screaming angrily at a lilac computer coated in stickers and glitter.

Soos loaded the game on both of their computers as Dipper set his desktop tripod and camcorder up. After taking a couple of test shots on his own, Soos deemed his camera ready and pressed ‘record,’ Dipper following suit on his camcorder so that they’d have multiple angles to work with in editing.

“Hey little dudes!” Soos greeted with an exuberant wave. “Soos here! Today, I’m excited to have my ‘P-terodactyl Bro’ with me for another dino-themed adventure!”

“T-Rex, we’re coming for you!” Dipper fist pumped in agreement.

Soos quickly explained the background of the game for the viewers as Dipper began familiarizing himself with the controls. It was a first-person shooter game, the formatting parallel to the likes of Halo and Destiny. He grinned as he reached into his bag and pulled out his wireless controller, glad he’d had the foresight to bring it along. It would be much easier to use than the mouse and would hopefully offer more options.

Soos started the game, guiding Dipper through the character building and backstory modes, the two cracking jokes to keep the content engaging.

“All I want is a hat for once! A baseball cap, a fedora, heck, I’d take a bowler hat!”

“Dude, they have helmets! Don’t those count?”

“If it’s not offering me extra protection, why would I want it? I’d look ridiculous!”

“Not as ridiculous as a bowler hat paired with a t-shirt and shorts would make you look. Or a fedora-flip flop combination.”

Dipper paused to cross his arms at his friend. “Touché…” He then looked at the camera and pointed an accusatory finger. “If the developers of this game are watching, I want hats included in the next update!” He flicked the lid of his baseball cap to exaggerate his point.

The playthrough was surprisingly challenging, especially because Dipper’s avatar was starting at level one. The high quality of the graphics only helped to fan the flames.

“Fucking dinos!” he screeched as a triceratops impaled him with its horns, blood splattering across his screen. His bullets did little to penetrate their thick hides.

Soos was having a bit more luck with his crossbow, but even he fell victim to a dive-bombing pterodactyl.

“Damn it!” he grumbled as a replay showed the dinosaur’s beak pierce through his back. “Who knew their mouths were actually lethal?”

“Yeah, I’m questioning the legitimacy of this game, too. ‘Suspension of disbelief’ my ass.”

Much of the game was mission-based, with story elements popping in every five levels. They continued to play with unhindered frustration until Dipper accumulated enough currency to purchase a katana. Soos traded his crossbow in for a bazooka, and suddenly they had a game.

“Ha! Eat warheads, suckers!”

Their current mission was to find and rescue a group of kids trapped in a cavern. They had to scale a mountain, search the different caves, free the children, and lead them to safety, all while avoiding the game’s titular villains.

They eventually found the children cowering in a small grotto, a boulder lodged in the mouth of the opening. They managed to squeeze themselves through a sliver of space between the rock and hard place, which was presumably how the kids had crawled into there, too.

“Stupid kids! This is why we can’t have nice things!” Dipper grumbled.

“Yeah, which of you boneheads thought it was a good idea to come down here?” Soos agreed. To their surprise, one child stepped forward and began explaining their predicament.

Dipper moved his avatar to scan the area, paling when he looked down. “Hey… Soos…”

Soos caught on quickly enough, three massive eggs appearing on his screen when he turned around. “I don’t suppose we can make omelets with those, can we?”

A deafening screech was their answer, (Dipper actually had to pause the game until the ringing in his ears stopped). Both screens displayed the same menacing Tyrannosaurus Rex mother baring her fangs at the gamers’ avatars.

“Shit!”

“Run!!”

Soos didn’t wait for any prompts to tell him what to do, immediately firing a warhead at the dinosaur’s massive head. Dipper turned to where the children were, only to find the space occupied by broken eggshells.

“What the hell?!”

He found the kids sniveling in a corner, the T-Rex babies attempting to reach them with their underdeveloped arms. He quickly ran over and decapitated the dinosaurs with his sword, effectively covering the children and himself in blood and birth fluids.

“Ew! Why are the graphics of this game so thorough?”

Soos paused the game then, giving his companion a wide-eyed look. “Dude, did you seriously just murder three babies?”

Dipper paused to contemplate the question. In a strange sense, that was exactly what he'd done. “It was for the greater good,” he justified. “But don’t tell Mabel; I’d never hear the end of it!”

“Noted.”

The mother T-Rex seemed to realize that she was no longer a mother, releasing a pained wail that, once again, left the heroes reeling. She sniffed at the air before her head turned sharply in Dipper’s direction, likely picking up on the blood and guts he was bathed in.

“Dude, look out!” Without hesitation, the enraged dinosaur charged at Dipper, fangs gnashing the air.

“Soos, switch!” Dipper launched himself at the T-Rex, his partner ushering the children toward the crevice of light pouring in through the blocked entrance.

Dipper slashed at the creature’s legs as he dodged it’s snapping jaw, his sword just barely scratching the thick hide of the dinosaur. After a few well-aimed slashes in the same place, the T-Rex roared in pain and retreated to the opposite side of the cave to check her wound.

“Bro, this thing isn’t budging, and I’m not tall enough to get these kids up to the gap!”

Dipper hurried over to the boulder in the hopes that his efforts combined with Soos’s would be enough to dislodge the rock. When their attempts proved to be fruitless, a thought suddenly dawned on him. “Maybe we’re not the ones who are supposed to move it…”

Soos stopped his movements and turned to Dipper questioningly. “What do you mean?”

“Just keep the kids back,” the brunet responded cryptically before running back in the direction that the dinosaur had lumbered off in.

When he found her, he stabbed at her tail to provoke her, her earsplitting squeal the only warning that he received before she leaped at him. He quickly high-tailed toward the boulder, timing his turn just right. Just before he slammed into the giant rock, he barrel-rolled out of the way, leaving the T-Rex to crash into the blockage and take it out.

“Whoa! That was a genius plan, dude!”

“Thanks man,” Dipper shrugged, internally applauding himself.

“I mean, you probably would’ve died if that had been timed any differently, either shattering all of your bones against the rock, or being crushed by the T-Rex, or you could’ve been eaten if you didn’t run fast enough– ”

“Yeah, thanks, Soos, I get it.”

With the path clear, they easily guided the lost children back to their worried parents, staving off any remaining dinosaur attacks along the way. The closest call that they had was a pteranodon swooping down and snatching up one of the kids. A well-aimed shot splattered the prehistoric bird’s insides against a canyon wall as the child fell to the ground from a relatively safe height. After fighting off a couple of velociraptors, they made it to the humans’ makeshift village in virtually no time.

“Annnnd, that’s game! Bam!” Dipper high fived Soos as the mission status prompt came up on the screen.

“Sweet! I think we got some pretty great stuff, dude! Should we do another mission for your channel?”

“Hell yeah, but let’s film your outro, first.”

They ran through the formalities that came with wrapping up a collab video, including a plug for Dipper’s channel and Soos’s usual, “Stay safe, lil’ dudes,” sign-off. When they had the perfect take, Soos stopped his camera’s recording and started a new video, Dipper mirroring the action on his own camcorder.

“Hey guys! Welcome back to ‘The Mystery Shack!’ I’m thrilled to be filming another ‘P-terodactyl Bros’ video with my man, Soos!”

“That’s me!” Soos gave an enthusiastic thumbs-up to the camera.

“We’re here playing a new Jurassic Park themed game that he found on Steam, part one of which is on his channel, so you should probably check that out before you watch this one, _hint hint._ ” He gave the camera a wink and a gentle nudge.

He paused then, knowing that he’d insert a clip from Soos’s video at this point as a teaser, along with a link. He’d have to edit it in either way, but pausing allowed him to easily distinguish the spot to put the clip into during editing.

“Alright, now that you’ve presumably watched that and are up to speed on everything, let’s jump right in, shall we?”

He and Soos returned to the main checkpoint, a Western tavern of sorts that displayed open missions on a corkboard toward the back. New missions with higher pay unlocked as you levelled up, all of which they explained in the video as they went along.

Soos pointed to one titled, “Pterodactyl Hunters Wanted,” and without further explanation, Dipper selected it for them.

As it turned out, the job required them to stand in the middle of a cornfield and pick off the bird-like creatures dive-bombing at them like crows. The owner of the property had reported hundreds of dinosaurs ransacking her crop, and was willing to handsomely pay any souls brave enough to defend her haul.

His katana may have been a bit of a handicap due to the proximity that it required, but with Soos’s blasting keeping most of them at bay it was a relatively fair fight. They battled the fearsome predators for about eight minutes, each wave carrying a greater volume and higher level of pterodactyls than the last.

Finally, the boss arrived, a larger than life pterodactyl with a fleet of normal-sized ones tailing it. The large one had five health bars and an attack level that they hadn’t even seen from the mother T-Rex in their last mission.

“What. The Actual. Fuck.” Dipper commented with wide eyes, pausing to equip a different weapon. Something told him that his katana wouldn’t cut it this time.

“Bet you wish you’d chosen the helmet now, huh dude?”

Ignoring the comment, Dipper opened the weapon shop, scrolling to the higher-priced items.

“Oh, try the photon laser!” Soos pointed at a gun at the top of his price range with a four-and-a-half-star rating. It promised to penetrate the toughest dinosaur hide and stun the strongest beasts.

“Seems like a strong candidate. Let’s hope it’s a good investment!” He wouldn’t even be able to afford a peashooter after this purchase, so he hoped his money was being put to good use.

With the photon gun equipped, he returned to the game, just in time for the head pterodactyl to divebomb them. He and Soos quickly ducked into the cornfield, narrowly avoiding decapitation.

They took turns picking off the boss’s army and aiming direct shots at it, gradually weakening it to two bars of health.

“We’ve got it on the ropes!” Soos cheered.

“But we’re on the ropes, too,” Dipper added solemnly, dodging another attack from the dinosaur’s razor sharp beak. It managed to catch him in the side, dropping his health into the red zone. “Ah, no!”

“Quick, switch places, bro!” Soos moved to cover him, leveling another shot at the prehistoric bird. As it swooped down to snap at them again, he launched a warhead directly into its mouth.

The resulting internal explosion dropped its health down to one bar, but also triggered its safeguard. Spikes broke through the skin of its beak like overgrown canines, its talons elongating, allowing for greater reach.

“How the hell is this even fair?”

The pterodactyl released a barrage of spikes in response, the projectiles flying in every direction as fresh ones took their place along its beak. Dipper and Soos narrowly managed to dodge the sudden onslaught, but they couldn’t regroup before it dove and slashed its talons into Soos’s avatar.

“Soos, no!”

“Avenge me, dude!” Soos cried, shaking his fists in agony.

With new determination, Dipper cracked his knuckles and gripped his controller more firmly. His fingers flew across the buttons and joystick, weaving his avatar in and out of cornstalks as the dinosaur circled overhead. He moved until he was certain that the pterodactyl had lost him before taking aim.

Just as its wing extended, Dipper blasted a hole through the weaker muscle, sending it hurtling toward the ground. It launched more spikes as it fell, but Dipper took shelter amid the cornstalks again.

The dinosaur crashed just ahead of him, screeching in agony. Seizing the opportunity, Dipper raced up to meet it, photon blaster charged up to its special attack.

“It’s time for you to go extinct!” In one quick sequence, he dove into the clearing that the dinosaur had created, dodged its talons with a barrel roll, and shot his laser at it point-blank. Pterodactyl chunks flooded the screen, blood and organs falling to the ground like rain.

When everything cleared, the charred remains of talons and spikes sat atop a pile of ashes. Soos’s character instantly reanimated as the quest-giving NPC raced to meet them.

“Golly, that was a lot more dramatic than I expected!” the NPC exclaimed, a hand clasped over her mouth. “I hope I didn’t give you too much trouble!”

Soos nudged him with his arm. “She’s pretty cute. Think there’s a flirting feature?”

“Dude, you have a girlfriend IRL,” Dipper chuckled. Soos had always had a thing for female video game characters; it was actually kind of reassuring to see that having a girlfriend hadn’t changed him a bit.

“Aw man, you’re right! Don’t let her see this!” he joked back as the congratulatory screen popped up with their stats and rewards.

“Well, I guess this is as good a note as any to end on,” Dipper laughed, saving and quitting the game. He directed his attention back on his camera to sign off. “Thank you guys so much for watching! Like and subscribe if you haven’t already, and comment below some games you want me to check out next! Thanks again to Soos for teaming up with me on this–”

“Bros before dinos!” Soos declared with a fist held high.

“–Remember to tip your Starbucks baristas and, as always, stay weird!”

He gave a little salute before stopping the recording. Soos switched his off, too, removing the SD card and inserting it into his desktop. Dipper followed his lead, downloading the videos to his laptop.

“So, what’s going on between you and that Cipher guy?” Soos asked after a minute. The progress bars were moving slowly; the computer hard drives likely overwhelmed by the size of the game they’d just spent over an hour playing.

Dipper resisted the urge to check his phone, fingers hovering over his pocket. “Nothing. Beyond daily insults and subtweets, we don’t interact or even acknowledge each other.”

“Yeah, but you guys tweet at each other, like, twenty times a day.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” the brunet suddenly snapped.

Soos raised his hands at Dipper’s tone. “I don’t know, dude, that’s why I’m asking. If you say there’s nothing going on, then there’s nothing going on.”

Dipper immediately calmed down. _Why was he being so defensive?_ “Sorry man, I didn’t mean to yell at you. I just… this whole thing has been kinda tough on me, ya know?”

Soos shrugged. “You two seem to have some good chemistry together. Maybe your efforts would be better spent working together.”

Dipper bit his lip. That did seem like a good idea in theory, after all, their feud had amassed a large following. A collab would be the ideal resolution to it all…

“He’d never go for it. He’s made his dislike of what we do pretty clear.”

Soos pouted, his round cheeks drooping. “Maybe you could change his mind.”

Dipper wanted to argue that Cipher didn’t seem like the type to be easily swayed from his opinion, but one look at his friend’s face had him nodding instead. “Yeah, maybe. It’d be nice to put this whole thing behind us. I never meant to start a war in the first place.”

Soos placed a comforting hand on Dipper’s shoulder, squeezing reassuringly. “Don’t worry, lil dude. I’m sure there’s a bright side to all of this. I mean, look at your followers and subscribers! That’s a pretty cool thing if you ask me.”

Over the weeks of the feud, Dipper’s subscriber count increased from 1.5 million to 5 million, his Twitter following nearly doubling that at 9.5 million. Bill’s subscribers had jumped to 8 million, and his Twitter followers increased to 14 million. Neither showed signs of stalling, either.

“And I’m sure that’s just the beginning of cool things for you,” Soos continued with a radiant smile, cheeks glowing hopefully at him.

Dipper couldn’t help but grin back. “Thanks, Soos. You always know just what to say.”

The moment ended abruptly as the doorbell rang, the chime resounding through the small house. The two men exchanged confused looks as they heard Soos’s grandmother answer the door.

“Are you expecting anyone else?” Dipper asked with a frown.

Soos mirrored the expression. “No. And Melody has a key, so she wouldn’t ring the doorbell.”

“Abuelita! It’s been forever!”

“Mabel?” Dipper hurried to the door, Soos hot on his heels.

His sister looked like she’d run all the way from school – or at least to the nearest bus stop. Her long, wavy hair was wind-whipped and frizzy, her sweater hanging off of one shoulder. A pink leather flap backpack dangled precariously from her elbow and she had her laptop tucked under the other arm. Her eyes lit up when they landed on him, only adding to her crazed appearance.

“Dipping Sauce! I thought I’d find you here.”

Dipper laughed as she dove into his arms. “Yeah, because I told you that I’d be here.”

“Soos!” she beamed at the man behind him, throwing her arms around him next.

“What’s up, Hambone?” Soos chuckled, ruffling her already-mussed hair.

“Oh, right!” She backed away from him to pull her laptop out, already connected to his Wi-Fi. She tapped at if for a bit before whirling it around to show them the screen. “Alex wants to interview you, Dip!”

Dipper shook his head incredulously, narrowing his eyes at the screen. “Alex? As in ‘Alex The Creator’ Alex?”

“The one and only!” Mabel nodded enthusiastically.

Sure enough, the screen was focused on the Twitter page of one of social media’s giants, Alex The Creator, (no relation to Tyler). He was notorious for his dark humor, cryptic messages, grandiose imagination, and commentary on everything important going on in the social media sphere. He dabbled in almost everything; his latest venture was creating comics that combined fantasy with reality. His live talk show, which featured hand-picked guests and only aired twice a month, was also internationally recognized and highly sought-after.

The most recent post from Alex had been uploaded about fifteen minutes ago. Just as Mabel had hinted, it read, ‘A little bird told me that @WelcomeToTheMindscape and @TheMysteryShack have been locked in a dramatic battle for glory and honor and I want in!’

“This doesn’t mean that he wants to interview me, Mabes,” Dipper frowned.

“Have you checked your DMs recently?” she asked matter-of-factly, one hand on her hip.

Dipper rolled his eyes, fishing his phone out of his pocket to appease her. The first notification to greet him was, unsurprisingly, a post alert from Cipher.

_@TheMysteryShack Judging by your silence, I assume you’re in the middle of another video. Tell me when it’s up so I can give it a thumbs-down ;P_

He rolled his eyes and dismissed it, making a mental note to return with a biting remark later. He bypassed the remaining notices to open the Twitter app directly, going straight to his private messages. Just as Mabel had predicted, there was a new one from the account @alex_the_creator.

_‘Hi Dipper, Alex here! I would like to formally extend an invitation for you to appear as a featured guest on the next installment of my web show. I’d really like to get your take on this whole feud thing, and give you a larger platform to speak from. If you’re interested, let me know so we can talk arrangements.’_

Mabel, having read the message indiscreetly over his shoulder, squealed ecstatically. “This is so exciting! You totally have to do it!”

“I don’t know, Mabel. I’m not outgoing like you, and I never wanted this to escalate the way that it has in the first place. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate all of the attention that I’ve gotten from it. I just… don’t want this to be blown even further out of proportion.”

“That’s why you have to do it, Dip! This is the perfect way for you to clear the air!”

“And what if I say something that I can’t take back? What if I make a fool out of myself?”

Mabel instantly stopped bouncing, her smile faltering. Her wide coffee eyes studied him carefully, like he was a specimen under a microscope. “Bro bro… Is this really bothering you that much?”

Dipper could tell that her older sister senses were kicking in. If he was distressed, she wouldn’t hesitate to dive in. He appreciated it in most cases, but he felt that she couldn’t come to his aid on this one. This was a battle that he’d ultimately chosen to fight, and it was his responsibility to finish it.

Cipher himself wasn’t all too bad. Dipper had to admit that there were occasions when the blond made him laugh. And he was pretty easy on the eyes, too…

What bothered him most about the situation was the timing and circumstances. He didn’t have the free time that he’d had over the summer to worry about a feud. And he still hated the video that started it all; that was one thing that Cipher had yet to redeem himself from.

Knowing that he couldn’t hide his discomfort, he masked most of it with a weak smile. “It could be worse. At least he doesn’t troll me in the comments of my videos, or trash me personally in his own. He’s been fairly respectful of our unspoken boundaries… I just hate the way that this all came about.”

Mabel worried her lower lip between her teeth, eyes still burning through him. When he didn’t say anything else, she stated, “You don’t have to do Alex’s show if you don’t want to.”

“Yeah, dude,” Soos chimed, having watched the exchange and deciding to throw his two cents in, “we’re here to support you no matter what!”

“Thanks, guys, but I think I will do the show. Mabel’s right – it might be the perfect place to put this whole feud to rest once and for all.”

Before he could talk himself out of it, Dipper sent a quick response to Alex: “I’m in.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy the fluff because the next chapter gets angsty~
> 
> Thank you again for all of the love that this fic has received! Though I don't respond to them, (work is killing me I'm sorry), I do see and read all of your comments and they literally make my day!! <3
> 
>  
> 
> (Shameless Promo: I'm excited to announce that I'm participating in a few Voltron events coming up, so if you're interested, stay tuned to my Tumblr for more info!! :D)


	4. #alexthecreator

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex's show doesn't exactly go as planned...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, it's been awhile, hasn't it? I can't apologize enough for the delay - work and school stuff have consumed most of my free time. And while I can sit here and promise to try to get better at posting consistently, I think we both know that life is too unpredictable for that.
> 
> That being said, I hope you all took the time to prepare yourselves for this chapter, because the angst train has left the station!

Alex was based in Los Angeles, but he insisted on making the trip up to their neck of the woods.

“I’ve been looking for an excuse to visit Oregon,” he’d said over the phone, “and what better time than the present?”

The university had been more than happy to accommodate his need for a studio, provided he give them the appropriate accolades for doing so. They set him up in the drama department, where they filmed the locally syndicated show, “Why You Ackin’ So Cray Cray,” and produced terrible movies like, “Help My Mummy’s a Werewolf!”

Friday came around too quickly, and Dipper found himself anxiously pacing the length of the makeshift green room that he’d been delegated. Mabel and Wendy watched him from the couch, helping themselves to the cookies and brownies on the table.

“Dude, you’re stressing _me_ out just looking at you,” Wendy frowned. “Would you sit down and chillax?”

“Yeah, bro, try one of these brownies! They’re reeealllly good!” Mabel added around a mouthful of the confections.

“Can’t eat,” Dipper mumbled, not faltering in his pace. “I’d probably just throw it up all over Alex.”

“Speak of the devil,” a voice quipped from the door.

The room’s three occupants all whirled around to find Alex himself leaning against the doorframe sporting a playful expression. He was clad in his trademark red and black flannel shirt and black skinny jeans, short brown curls wild as ever atop his head.

“Alex!” Dipper’s face broke into a furious blush as he realized that his fear had likely been overheard.

The man only laughed in response, walking in and clapping Dipper on the back. “Your sister’s right about those brownies, you know. Your school really knows how to treat a guest! And I’m not just saying that because they bribed me to.” He flashed a wink, obviously trying to set his guest at ease.

While Dipper appreciated the effort, his stomach remained set on its revolutionary agenda, the breakfast bar that he’d anxiously scarfed down in the car churning tumultuously. Alex sensed his apprehension, the hand on the brunet’s back moving in slow, soothing circles.

“Does he usually get worked up like this?” The question was directed at his entourage.

“Unfortunately. Dip’s always been a ball of stress.”

“Yeah. There was this one time that I was babysitting them, about ten years ago, when Dipper realized that he’d forgotten his math homework at school and almost had a panic attack – at age 8! I was able to copy Mabel’s, but it took an hour and a dozen cookies to calm him down. Apparently at school the next day, he confessed to – his exact words – ‘plagiarism,’ telling his teacher that he’d copied his sister’s homework. You can imagine the trouble that their great uncle and I got into. I’m still not sure how he even knew what plagiarism meant!”

Alex chuckled, eyes twinkling mischievously at Dipper, silently asking for permission to bring the story up during the interview. Rather than answer, the teen pouted at the occupants of the couch.

“Was that story really necessary for him to hear?”

“She wouldn’t have shared it if you had just crawled out of your turtle shell,” Mabel stated matter-of-factly.

“Don’t sweat it, kid. I’m only really interested in your channel and the feud you’ve got going on – any embarrassing childhood stories that you share would be of your own free will. But seriously, did you have a Word-A-Day Calendar or something?”

“He did, actually! Still does. Our other grunkle sends them to him every year for Christmas!”

Dipper rolled his eyes as the room burst into laughter again. Admittedly, he did feel a bit more relaxed. There was something comforting in Alex’s presence that put him at ease. The reassurance that he wouldn’t grill him on his life story was an added relief.

The host seemed to catch onto Dipper’s dampening anxiety, moving his hand from the teen’s back to his shoulder and patting it once more. “Well, glad to see that the tension’s been relieved. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have one more guest to attend to before show time!”

He shook hands with everyone amicably before hurrying out the door. The green rooms were scattered throughout the studio to assure privacy for all guests, so Dipper had no idea who else would be on the show. Alex never actually announced them beforehand, nor did he allow his guests to announce their appearances; it only added to the show’s flair.

Speaking of which, Dipper checked his phone.

_3:45 p.m._

They were set to go live at 4:00, a time meant to accommodate most time zones, as they were located on the west coast. Alex would kick it off with a conventional monologue, as talk show hosts were known to do, then he’d introduce his first guest. Dipper would be his second, and there’d be one person to follow him. The stage manager would come for him when it was time, but he wanted to be mentally prepared for the moment as best as he could.

_Okay, I shouldn’t be on until 4:30, which means I have about 45-minutes to get all of the tongue-tied, embarrassing stuff out of my system. Damn it, I should’ve made a checklist for this! Why, of all occasions, did I forget to make a checklist for this?! What if I miss something important? What if I say something unimportant? This is nothing like playing a video game! Geez, what if I come across as an antisocial freak–_

His internal panic was silenced prematurely by a brownie slapping him across his face.

“Wha– Mabel!” He wiped the offending crumbs from his cheek, frowning at his cackling sister.

When she managed to collect herself, Mabel sat up and levelled a mostly-serious look at him. “Stop overthinking things, bro! Just look at it like filming a video with me or Wendy.”

He didn’t want to admit how much sense her comparison made. Collabing with his sister or Wendy often led to lengthy discussions and jokes. It surprised him how easily he could converse in a video without smashing buttons on a controller or complaining about weak graphics.

“Yeah, man, stop freaking out and come sit with us,” Wendy agreed, waving a cookie at him tantalizingly. “You’ll be fine. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Not even Wendy could have predicted the drama that would go down.

 

* * *

 

“My next guest is the star of his own gaming channel, ‘The Mystery Shack,’ but he is probably better known for the feud that he’s been embroiled in over the past few weeks. Here tonight to clear the air, please give a warm welcome to Dipper Pines!”

The brunet resisted the urge to fiddle with his fingers as he made the lonely walk from stage right to the couch beside Alex. He waved awkwardly to the applauding audience seated just beyond the cameras. He was surprised by the warmer-than-necessary reception that he received. Some fans were even wearing “Team Dipper” shirts and hats. Mabel and Wendy slipped into a pair of reserved seats in the front row, the former giving him a thumbs-up and bright grin.

Alex recaptured his attention with a chuckle and clap on the back. “Not used to a live audience?”

“Wha-?” Dipper flushed as he realized that he was probably sporting a bewildered expression. He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, trying to will the blush on his cheeks away. “Ye-Yeah, it’s a lot quieter in my room.”

Alex nodded with a reassuring smile. “Speaking of which, why don’t we start from where it all began? What prompted you to start making gaming videos?”

His eyes locked with Mabel’s; her smile was impossibly wider. “Well Mabel, my sister, started making beauty and DIY videos our junior year of high school. Seeing how they helped her come out of her shell even more, I dunno, I guess I wanted to try it for myself.” He turned back to Alex, who was listening intently. “She was the one who suggested I do a gaming channel. My major is digital design, so they tie in pretty well. When I realized that I could use my expertise to help others enjoy games more, I started to view it as more than just a hobby. I never expected to get the kind of attention that I’m receiving now, though!”

“Well I think you have a certain viral video response to thank for much of that,” Alex quipped. “So let’s move on to that. How did you see Cipher’s video and why did you respond to it?”

Dipper inhaled deeply, calming his jittery nerves. ‘ _Don’t think about screwing up and you won’t.’_ He repeated the mantra that Wendy gave him backstage in his head as he opened his mouth to respond.

“Mabel was the one who showed it to me. She was pretty distraught about what he said, and after watching it, I could see why. I don’t know if Cipher gets off on putting others down, but I couldn’t believe that someone could actually post something so hateful! I didn’t let it affect me at first; I figured it would blow over after a while. I saw people posting in defense of their favorite YouTubers and genres, but after two days, I didn’t see anything about gamers. In fact, I actually saw some hateful comments agreeing with Cipher.”

“So you decided to take a stand yourself,” Alex supplied.

Dipper nodded. “‘Be the change you want to see,’ right? I didn’t want any gamers to feel discouraged because no one was fighting for them.”

“But why a video response? All of the other responses had been through Twitter.”

“I wanted to make a statement. I didn’t want my response to get swallowed up by the others. I wanted to make sure that people would see it.”

“Right, so you post a video of your response, and it blows up overnight. And not only does it blow up, but Bill responds! When did you realize that you had a feud on your hands?”

Dipper bit his lip. “I’m not entirely sure. I never wanted a feud, I just wanted to give gamers some validation. Mabel and our friend Wendy were the ones who talked me into responding. Even then, none of us expected it to last _this_ long or be _this_ popular!”

“Are there moments when you wish that you could take it back?”

“Honestly? No. Cipher may be a pain to deal with, but I stand by my words.” Dipper crossed his arms with an air of finality.

“Aww, you don’t really mean that, kid. I’m the highlight of your day!”

Dipper’s head shot up at the familiar voice. _No, he wouldn’t!_

Alex tugged at his collar, shooting the camera an exaggeratedly awkward expression. “Well, I guess the cat’s out of the bag. Hope you didn’t expect a one-sided debate! Here to defend his honor, please join me in welcoming the mastermind behind ‘Welcome to the Mindscape,’ Bill Cipher!”

Dipper tried to reign his terror in as the blond menace himself walked onstage from the opposite side that Dipper had entered. His triumphant gait exuded arrogance, the crowd devouring the pompous act wholeheartedly.

Dipper managed to catch Mabel’s eyes, abundant apologies spilling from them. Wendy was subtly flipping Alex off, glaring daggers at the oblivious host who would surely be dead if looks could kill.

Bill finally reached Alex, shaking his hand cordially before taking a seat on the couch beside the brunet teen. Dipper made a show of scooting as far away as the arm of the chair allowed, (which wasn’t far enough in his opinion). Bill merely smirked at the action and invaded his space further. When Dipper glared at him in response, he draped an arm onto the back of the couch behind him, resting his fingertips delicately on the brunet’s left shoulder.

“Glad to see you two already getting chummy,” Alex teased, eliciting a few cheers from fangirls in the audience.

Dipper jerked away at that, redirecting his frown at his host. Alex ignored it, moving the show along. “Bill, so glad that you could join us!”

Bill flashed the plaid-clad brunet a brilliant smile. “Glad to be here, Alex. You’re a very persistent guy, relocating the entire show just to score an interview with me.”

Dipper nearly choked at that revelation. He and Bill lived in the same city! He hadn’t researched the guy, but he felt like that was a crucial detail that he should’ve somehow known. Sure, Wendy had filmed some videos with him a few times before, but she’d done stuff with other people outside of town enough that he hadn’t put much thought into that.

“Well, it’s not like you’re the only one of my guests living here,” Alex acknowledged, drawing Dipper’s attention back to him. “Speaking of which, have you two ever met in person before today? I know that it’s a big city, but surely not _that_ big, right?”

Dipper opened his mouth to respond, but Bill beat him to the punch. “Nope, apparently it is that big. Then again, gamers don’t get out much, so it shouldn’t be surprising that our paths have never crossed.”

The brunet could feel his eye twitch at the backhanded remark. “Takes a shut-in to know one,” he muttered under his breath, just loudly enough for the mic on his collar to pick up. Oohs resounded through the studio, Alex chuckling behind a hand himself.

Rather than get angry, Bill laughed in that same, obnoxious tone ever-present in his videos. “I guess I walked right into that one. I’ve gotta hand it to ya, kid, you’re pretty quick-witted. I thought video games were supposed to rot the brain or something.”

“Did you get that from a soap opera? Video games help stimulate multiple parts of the brain, and they increase hand-eye coordination and dexterity.”

Bill raised his hands in mock surrender, rolling his eyes. “Geez kid, don’t get your briefs twisted! I didn’t ask for a lecture. I get enough of those here every day! Can someone say nerd alert?”

Dipper pinched the bridge of his nose. He was getting really tired of Bill’s shit. “Did you only come here so that you could ruin my day in person, too?”

Alex had seen enough action, standing to recapture their attention. “How about we move on another topic?”

Bill ignored him, eyes trained on Dipper. “Well I didn’t know that you’d be here, so, no, I didn’t come for you. But I’d be lying if I said that this was an unpleasant turn of events.”

That set him off. Dipper bolted to his feet, hands balled at his sides in frustration. “Seriously, what’s your problem with me?!”

Bill frowned, standing to tower over the teen. “I thought I made it pretty clear in my video what my problem with you is.” His voice had dropped, all traces of playfulness gone.

“So what? You hate me because I’m a gamer who had the balls to put you in your place?!” It wasn’t making sense to Dipper, but he’d be damned if Bill made him look weak in front of all of these spectators. It was one thing to be anxious in front of a camera; standing in the face of your antagonist with an audience was a different feeling altogether. It made him bolder.

“No, I hate you because you’re a waste of space,” Bill sneered, poking Dipper in the chest to punctuate the statement. “People like you don’t deserve to be praised for tapping a few buttons and saying a bunch of shit on camera. _Anyone_ can play a video game; what makes you so special? What makes you think that your fifteen-minute video is worth watching? News flash: it’s not! You’re just a little fame-moocher who became relevant on a whim. After this blows over, you’ll go back to being nothing.”

Bill’s words stung him. They mercilessly tore into old wounds that were still healing. Familiar voices of disappointment and shame echoed through his psyche, invading the quietest crevices of his mind. All of the hate that he’d deflected, all of the blocked trolls, all of the deleted comments came rushing back, strengthened by Cipher’s harsh words.

His confidence evaporated just as quickly as it had come, leaving a trembling kid in its wake. He looked up at the blond, panting and red-faced from his venomous rant. His wild azure eyes locked condemningly with his dull caramel ones, forcing his own head down in submission. Tears welled up involuntarily, spilling down his cheeks.

The crowd had fallen into stunned silence when the shouting match started, watching the exchange with bated breath. Alex had resigned to letting them hash it out, too, retreating to the curtain where two security guards joined him, awaiting his signal should it escalate further.

It was as if time had frozen, the only sound audible being Dipper’s hushed sniffles. Finally, he lifted his head enough to shoot a final glare at Cipher, though its potency had been diluted by the tears still flowing steadily.

“You win,” he whispered, the words barely passing his lips. Not waiting for a response, he bolted from the stage, not caring where he ended up. He just needed to get away.

He could hear Mabel’s familiar footsteps trailing him urgently. As he passed a monitor near the studio exit, he caught a glimpse of Wendy rushing the stage to grab Cipher by the collar. He didn’t need to stay to hear the redhead’s words; her outraged cry of, “You fucking asshole! I’m going to shove my boot so far up your rectum that you’ll be shitting leather from Hell!” resonated through the entire building.

* * *

 

_@TheMysteryShack: “Sorry @alex_the_creator for ruining your show today. I promise it’ll never happen again.”_

 

* * *

 

Dipper scrolled down the settings screen of his YouTube account. His hand shook violently as he maneuvered the cursor to hover over the “delete channel” button.

“Dip’n’Dots, are you sure you wanna do this?” Mabel’s sorrow-filled voice was almost enough to break his resolve. _Almost._

“I’m sorry, Mabes, but I can’t do this anymore.” His hand gripped the mouse tighter, but he didn’t press down on the left side.

“Maybe if you give it a month, let everything cool down–”

“I appreciate the support that you’ve given me, sis, and believe me, this decision is the hardest that I’ve ever made.”

“So don’t do it!”

“Whatever it is your sister is warning you not to do, I completely agree,” Stan quipped from the open doorway, two mugs of hot cocoa in his hands. He let himself in, handing the female twin one cup before setting the other gently in front of his grandnephew. “You wanna tell me why you’ve been sulking for the past two weeks?” The question held no malice, nor was it demanding.

Dipper accepted the mug timidly, but made no move to respond. Mabel sighed and gave Stan a brief synopsis of the show’s events. When she’d finished, Stan stood and silently exited the room with clenched fists. A loud crash rang from the kitchen a second later, promptly followed by a slew of profanities.

Mabel slipped a blanket around her twin’s shoulders, as the temperatures had begun to decline as winter drew nearer and their heater was on the fritz. Dipper burrowed in to it gratefully, sipping at his cocoa, eyes trained on his laptop screen.

Mabel pulled another chair up beside him, resting a hand on his. Her full lips were fixed into a pout, brows furrowed as she tried to catch his gaze. “Dipper, please. You need to think about what you’re doing. I don’t want this to be one of your biggest regrets.”

“My biggest regret is being a disappointment. Do you know what the first words out of Ford’s mouth were when I called him that other night? ‘Are you still wasting time on that video game thing?’ No ‘Hi, Dipper!’ or ‘How have you been, Dipper?’ or ‘What’s my protégé working on now?’ like it used to be.”

Mabel sighed, rubbing soothing circles into her twin’s back with her unoccupied hand. She just wished that she could take the pain from him. She wished that she could punch some sense or emotion into Ford’s big scientist brain. She should’ve known from the start that this was deeper-set than Cipher’s cruel words.

Stan returned then, placing a hand on Dipper’s other shoulder and squeezing lightly, just enough to assure him of his presence. He didn’t press for further information.

They remained this way for a moment, leaning on each other. Finally, Mabel asked the question weighing on both of their minds. “Are you really just going to give it all up?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I can't wait to see what happens next, either! I'm eternally working on a few other projects, so I can't promise a timetable for the next update. I do hope that you'll stick with me for this ride, though, because we're just getting started!
> 
> As always, thank you all so, so much for all of the lovely comments and kudos!! The notification emails that roll in make me smile like an idiot at my phone xD

**Author's Note:**

> Buckle up, because we're about to go for a ride!  
> Thanks so much for reading! If you have any ideas, feel free to suggest them and I may use them! (Also, if the person who suggested this idea actually ends up reading this, I'd love to give you credit for it! :))


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